Acid spills from the jaws of Feng, her eyes dazed as the Drow holds her tight. As Grellik and Grimgar attempt to break the embrace, Feng exhales and sends a wave of noxious acid out, past Trissae, Grellik, and Ozz.
Acid. Half on success.
Taking the rope and rushing to the bed side, you try to help tie the woman to the bed. Seeing you with the rope, Beldabar continues to hold her down, gritting his teeth from the pain of electrical discharges. River immediately takes the rope and begins guiding it over her body with you, crawling quickly beneath the bed to pass the rope back around it.
You're forced to come into contact with the woman more than once during the struggles, and each time there is a jolt of electricity when you make contact with her as you try and still her.
Finally, she is tied and the three of you are able to release her. However, some of the bedding is starting to catch fire from the repeated discharges. It is currently a small flame, with the potential to quickly grow.
Ozz's eyes go wide, too late, as he notices the acid wave crashing his way from behind Trissae and Grellik. He takes the brunt of it, reacting too late to pull his cloak over his face and body.
"Aaargh!" he groans, falling to a knee, his right cheek burned.
Cavell almost slumps to the ground in relief--then curses, "Oh Hells, not over yet, get water!"
He'll look around for a pitcher or basin nearby and upend it on the bed.
The combined efforts of Grellik and Grimgar is more than enough to pull Trissae away from her embrace.
As the three of them tumble away, Feng releases the noxious acid spit. Trissae still disoriented only has a moment to react.
Quickly she lifts her arm to shield her face from the spray, instead suffering only minor burns to her forearm.
She sits there momentarily stunned by what has transpired, but slowly shifts her gaze; first to Grell, then to Grimgar. Emotion washes over her face and she looks again to Feng.
Leaning forward towards Feng, Triss sings out in a soft lullaby tone.
♪♪Hello there, Shadowed sister of mine...♪♪
♪♪Here we are in the heart of the darkness♪♪
♪♪I feel your body shake♪♪
♪♪Fear like a vulture waits♪♪
♪♪Here we are in the heart of the darkness♪♪
♪♪Here we are in the heart of the darkness♪♪
♪♪Hold fast we must be brave♪♪
♪♪Family will change these fates♪♪
♪♪In the heart of this darkness♪♪
Triss, still trembling, turns to Grell and looks him in the eye, "I, I can't do this anymore..." She passes a sidelong glance to Grimgar before look out past Ozz toward the door. It's clear her intention is to leave.
Grellik is dumbtruck, too focused on Trissae to even think about getting out of the way.acid splashes all over his face and neck, and he growls in pain
As Trissae turns to leave he clasps her shoulder, and looks her in the eye. There is a curious mix of desperation and determination in his voice as he speaks. "Take what time you need. But you can do this, Trissae. We all can and must. We will not fail Feng as we did Mornak"
He releases her and turns to Grimgar. "Well, then, never a dull moment, eh Grimgar?"He attempts a small smile but pain and mood make it a mockery of humor.
Grimgar leans over to Feng as you recoil to the acid. He gently strokes a petrified shoulder, and this seems to calm Feng. Feng reaches up with one hand and slowly grasps at the air, as if trying to grab something only she can see. Her expression is confused.
"Dargal ghes' sfeoral." Feng murmurs. A dragonborn saying you've all often heard her repeat whenever she noticed something unusual.
"I know, Coal. I know." Grimgar whispers back. Coal, his nickname for her. He strokes her petrified shoulder with tenderness before looking to Grellik.
"Not in our line of work." he says back to the bugbear. "Grellik, by the Boss's left fist, what are you doing in Yartar? Is it just the three of you?"
"The gods brought him to us..." Ozz says in a voice of hushed gravity, before looking over to Trissae, linking the two thoughts.
You grab a half-full water pitcher from a table to the side of the room, dousing her and the bed with it. Lightning cracks from her as she's doused, sending bolts through the room. The bed, however, does go out.
Everyone ducks and dives, avoiding most of the bolts. Even the men are able to roll out of the way, but the son isn't able to get far enough away from the bolt, despite his quick reflexes.
"It's watching me! It's watching me! Help! Marcus?! Marcus please, help me!" she screams out.
Lightning continues to crack from the woman. River goes to shut the door as she notices a pair of people watching from outside the room.
Beldabar stands, and looks over to boy laying still. He grabs a small silver club from his belt, approaching the girl quickly, looking like he is going to club her.
Adrien grins cockily at Beldabar after dousing the fire--and gets hit in the chest by a bolt of lightning, knocking him onto his back.
He lays stunned and smoking.
Trissae looks at Grellik and attempts to stern up her resolve. It fails, but she nods to him none the less. She then heads past him toward the door, only just barely catching Ozz's observation.
She stops at the entrance to think a moment, then reaches out and tugs on Ozz's sleeve and gestures to follow her out. She then turns and exits the hideout and steps back up the stairway into the alleyway.
Once there she draws the blade Adrien bought for her, plants a knee and the tip of the sword, then rests her head against the hilt.
She waits a moment to see if Ozz follows.
Beldabar advances on the woman and clubs her over the head with the silver club, more like a rod.
"I'm sorry for this!" he says aloud as lightning cracks off of her, either to her, or to her husband.
The club comes down.
The lightning stops.
The man looks to his smoldering son to his still wife.
River pants, bleeding. Her hand twitches involuntarily from the electricity she's been charged with. Beldabar is a bit better, clearly more apt at handling these things, but even he looks roughed up.
The room is dead silent except for the panting of exhausted people catching their breath.
Ozz puts a hand on Grimgar's shoulder briefly, before turning to follow Trisssae, a silent question in his expression toward her.
Adrien groans and slowly gets up, touching the charred spot on his new leather breastplate.
"Is the boy alive?" He finds somewhere to sit and plops down, preferably a chair, wincing.
Grellik nods"Aye, I was just returning from one of my ill fated expeditions, when Tymora saw fit to land me here after the raiding party got captured. Though I have accomplished little of the value that being God-sent aught to imply. And, yes, it is just the three of us. We know not what has become of Adrien. He was on an errand, and has not reported back. Though, to tell the truth, he has been acting strangely lately."
He pauses briefly to gauge Grimgar's reaction before elaborating further.
oh and I guess I will tie up my horse outside before we come down, on account of it not being fir for horses >.> #forgettingabouthorses #DMjustremindedus
Grimgar pauses, sitting on the side of Feng's ruined bed, softly stroking her grey arm while thinking.
"I don't think she has long... People around town have started going past the point where they're not people any more. Not many, but some..."
He looks up at Grellik, concern clearly showing in his face. "There's nothing I can do for her... I can give her water, food, and a place to avoid the Shields. I can even talk gently to her, it seems to calm her down when she starts becoming... Alarmed. But still her plague grows. I think she responds to touch more than anything, once she said my name. I think she recognized I was somewhere near, but she acts like she is hearing and seeing things which I cannot. Her eyes are lucid, her movements curious and cautious. Sometimes afraid. Never do I see what she is responding to. She speaks of being lost sometimes, as if trapped in a maze. I thought it symbolic at first, but now I suspect she means it literally, if she means anything by it at all. I've tended to her for days, but haven't grown sick. It is unlike any plaque I've ever witnessed, though it is clearly linked to the storm."
Grimgar removes his bandanna, showing a mostly bald head. "We're losing her. Bullywugs are in the Citadel with the other Sharks. I'm pretty sure they're still alive, but leaving Feng...? Chasing Cavell around certainly isn't f&@+ing helping. He's probably whoring somewhere while Feng..."
"If you've lot got any ideas for her, this may be our last chance. I'm out of ideas. I've tended to her, I stole some books on medicine... I even forced a couple of healers to take a look at her. Nothing. I don't think she'll make it until midnight."
He puts his face in his hand, rubbing his eyes. Grimgar looks exhausted.
INSIGHT: He is angry at Cavell, clearly. He is likewise beyond concerned for Feng.
You plop in a chair and ask about the man's son. The man is staring wide-eyed at his son.
Beldabar walks over and checks to see if the kids breathing. "Nope." he says, putting his club away. He looks to the man, as if about to chide him for something, then just shakes his head and walks toward the door. "Come on River. If idiots ignore my rules and bring the Dazed into my home, there is little I can do for them."
They head to the door, barely giving you a second glance. "Thanks for trying to help." He says to you as he walks past.
Cavell stands, "That's a perfectly good silken rope--and my brand new chest piece that just got fried," he follows Beldabar and River out. "You at least owe me a conversation."
Trissae holds a hand out toward Ozz, directing him with it to her sword handle.
"Join me Ozz, I need somebody to help me send a prayer." She looks at the sword, then back to him.
"Not to Eilistraee, you see she knows I love her and she protects me, but I don't know how to pray to Ilmater. The maimed one knows suffering and how to preserve, he must know how to help Feng."
Triss starts by resting her head against the handle, and closing her eyes. Quietly in common she says. "Lady of the moon, send my plea to the One Who Endures. For your goodness should be able to find his compassion in this darkness..." Her voice dips, saying a personal prayer.
She spends several moments praying, while her voice remains mouse quiet, her impassioned plea manifests itself visibly as she trembles and steadies herself and tears streak her already soggy cheeks.
Then there is a steadiness in Triss, and her eyes dart open. Her gaze looks to Ozz, no, past Ozz as if seeing some far off scene.
"I..... I can see him. Ozz I can see him... Mornak, at the side of Ilmater." It's hard to tell if see is actually seeing this or it is a manifestation of her imagination, it has always been difficult with Trissae to tell.
"They play a game... Cards?" She squints in half disbelief. "He has bet all he has.... on.. us? Us?" She snaps from her daze and looks to Ozz again, the passion alight behind her pink eyes.
"Ozz! he will protect her, this is a trial not for Feng, but for US! It is not she who must endure but US! Only if we fail will Feng and the others fall!" She stands vigorously and with a flourish sweeps her blade, safely away from Ozz, to fling a sheet of the rain from its flat.
"We must go now! The eyes of Mornak are upon us! We shall not waste this!" She bursts forth with vigour toward the stairs and her body language suggests she may just kick the door open.
Hearing Grimgar's real concern for Fend, his certainly sincere emotions about us, makes Grellik beg any god who will listen for the small mercy that Grimgar be innocent, that all of this is just a misunderstanding. He nearly breaks down and reveals what he knows, desperate to just have it out and be done with this damned game.
But he steels his resolve. He is the Leader. He must take this burden from the others. he must be suspicious; careful around this man who has been his brother. Trissae is at the breaking point, and Cavell is volatile without his life possibly at stake--even iron miened Ozz is beginning to crack. He must play this most distasteful game a move further, then perhaps he can rest, in grief or respite.
"I know his behavior is vulgar...but do not judge him too harshly, Grimgar. I know not where is he now, but he alone was on the wall fighting while...while Mornak hung."forgive me for involving your memory in this, my friend "Trissae and I were unable to reach it, yet Cavell valiantly struggled, though it nearly cost him his life."
"We...we fear there is a traitor among us--the job was too neatly set up, and the Waterbaron's lackeys knew too well who would be there. But I find it hard to believe that the man who nearly came to blows with me over Mornak (an exaggeration, but only slightly...) could be the one. I know he is the newest among us, and he can much more easily join in with so called civilized society, but he has proven his worth to The Boss, and to us. Though truth be told, I would give offerings to any God that could make our suspicions false. I would suffere a lifetime of indignity and shame rather than have one of our own turn against us" At this he starts as he realizes he has not been performing the second half of his task--to guess and see to Grimgar's reaction--so caught up in his stupid emotions. HE quickly tries to rectify that and hopes he is not too late.
Ozz approaches Trissae, placing a hand on her sword as well, concentrating with a frown.
"Lord on the Rack. If there are any who suffer within this city more than any others, it is the Sharks." indeed, he looks exhausted. In desperate need for rest and peace. "We have lost one. Two more still have need of saving. One dies before us, in our impotent hands. Our brotherhood is dying as the whole city is torn apart by this plague."
He says all this low, a passionate murmur.
As Trissae talks, he looks up at her. He sees nothing. He's unsure if Trissae is just desperate and delusional, or if she is actually communing with the gods. The gods are rarely so specific, their message so clear. He looks up into the storm, letting rain fall on his face as lightning booms and crashes overhead, and he sighs.
Despite Trissae's certainty of her vision, something else occurs as soon as she takes her sword to clear it of the rain water.
As she breaks her contact with Ozz, something much more significant happens then a personal vision.
Lightning strikes.
Not naturally, no. A bolt of lightning crashing overhead takes a sudden change of route, arching through the narrow gap of the buildings and down into the alley. A near impossible feat for nature to do on its own.
It strikes the sword in Trissae hand, an inch away from Ozz's.
That is the entirety of the message.
Gods work through the ways in which they are able. Sometimes they are able to speak directly to their priests, when the priest is true and has spent years attuning themselves to the voice of their god.
Without one of their divines nearby to speak through, they must improvise their message upon the world through their domain.
A god of war might speak through weapons and blood. A god of knowledge may speak through books. A god of the stars or the sun and moon might speak through comets or eclipses. A Goddess of the night, for another example, might work through tricks of moonlight.
The Crying God speaks through suffering.
"Lightning" is what he had to say.
Ozz flies back from the blast, his video fading to black.
He coughs blood, his eyes opening, his vision slowly returning as his body twitches for a moment from the massive electric shock.
"Didn't... Marr say something... To Grellik?" Ozz speaks from the ground of the alley, the horses nearby rearing in fright. Well, all but the patient rusty colored warhorse, which stands fearlessly.
He tries to remember the specifics, an epiphany on the verge of occurring. But he just cannot remember what the mage had to say.
"Lightning..." he says, panting in anguish as the rain water dilutes the blood running from his mouth and one ear. He looks over to Trissae to see how she fares.
Beldabar pauses briefly, realizing that the strange man who came to help didn't do so merely to be a good Yatarian.
"Okay... Let's talk. But not here."
He and River turn down the corridor, leaving the man to his shock behind a closed door. The freckled halfling girl is giving you suspicious eyes as she takes a sling already set up over her shoulder, and places her perfectly good arm within it.
The common room is quiet as you return to it. You can tell that Beldabar finds it unusual. It sounds as if the once busy room is now entirely empty.
As you take the final turn, you notice a room full of people mostly frozen in place. What was once a bustling, lively room full of energy and gossip is now full of docile, still, silent people.
Some are already rousing as you approach, their eyes refocusing and their conversations resuming as if they didn't notice a pause.
"Uhhhh.... Boss?" River asks, disturbed.
Grimgar seems thoughtful about Grellik's words, and moments pass in silence as he thinks, his hand on Feng's arm.
-----------
He shouldn't have to be the one doing this. It was HER job, this time. Grimgar built the mission. He did all the groundwork, all the spying, all the planning. He picked the marks, he evaluated their worth. It was Caira's job to fence the booty.
Mindulspeer Lane was dreary as always. "Got some needs for flour. Got any you can spare?" Grimgar stated flatly. It was a stupid but functional password.
Ignoring the halfling as soon as the door was opened, he walked down the stairway and into Mongoose and Snakes to do Caira's job for her.
He pulled out his pouch while eyeing the fence's guard. The big man kept starring at him in a way that seemed like trouble. Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, Grimgar pulled out a another small pouch to toss onto a counter top to be gone over by the aged halfling.
Then he removed an entire painting, pulling three feet of brilliantly colored art out of his small bag. Following that were several bags of clothes, jewels, and some second hand armors. He passed it all over, bored and annoyed.
"Watch it, half-breed!" the guard hissed at Grimgar, seizing his wrist when it got too close to one of the many weapons on the half-orc. Immediately bloodying the guard's nose with his other hand, he ripped his hand away with a growl.
"That's it!" the guard says, drawing steel, blood dripping onto his teeth.
"Now wait..." the white haired halfling tried to interject, but Grimgar was already tackling the man to the ground, assaulting him with punches.
Getting up from the unconscious man, Grimgar points a finger at the old halfling. "Count it!" he demanded.
Leaving the fence as quick as he could, Grimgar looked to meet back up with his other comrade in town. Heading to a market square, Grimgar pulled his hood down over his face as he noticed people looking at his green skin and tusked mouth with alarm.
They thought him an orc, a conquering beast in the rough shape of a man. They didn't seem to know or care about his half-blood, or his difference of nature to the blood thirsty creatures. Remembering the blood on his knuckles from the guard earlier, he pondered if he really was less savage than a full blooded orc. He liked to think he was, but sometimes he wasn't sure.
With the Shield Tower looming nearby, Grimgar stood uncomfortably waiting for Caira. They needed to exchange notes. He kept his hood down over his eyes against the sun, waiting...
He waited more... People looked at him, and avoided him when they noticed his skin. He grew impatient. She was late. She was REALLY late.
Grimgar left the busy market, heading to The Cointoss. As soon as he entered the door, he heard the halflings laughing voice and nearly saw red.
He looked over to the voice, seeing Caira sitting at a table with several other people, sharing company, stories, and drinks with one another. They were just city folk, nobodies. Her friends.
So angry he could barely breathe, Grimgar stepped right back out of the tavern and pulled out a small metal can from a pouch on his belt. It had no openings whatsoever. He shook it gently in his hand, feeling the sandy particles within moving around, making a satisfying sound and sensation of weight.
He tried to calm down, but the sound of the halfling b&@$& giggling with her friends within made it difficult...
-----------
Lightning crashes outside!
It's loud enough that you suspect it hit the door to the hideout, the sound of the energetic strike ringing sharply down the stairway, followed by immediate thunder.
Grimgar jumps to his feet, his hand on his dagger and his heart beating hard in his chest. The noise shook his bones with the intensity of it, causing him to react as if it were an invading squad of Shields.
"That was close..!" he says, giving Grellik a look. "Ozz and Trissae!"
Grellik looks at Grimgar wide eyed and sprints up the stairs, muttering familiar Goblin curses. He barrels through the door, possibly running into Trissae.
Trissae is crumpled over her blade, steam rolls from her and the sickly scent of burnt skin mixes with ionized air. She grips tightly at the hilt to keep herself upright. Her cloak and linens have been blasted to tatters by the bolt and the once gloved sword hand now revealed is maimed, covered by a webbed network of scars which disappear further up the sleeve and reveal themselves again climbing up her collar and across her face.
Her eyes, part blinded by the flash, focus on the vague shapes in the alley. Ozz's muffled words are picked up through ringing ears and she tries to respond, but the intense spasm of her diaphragm from the shock steals her ability to even breath.
In a moment her vision begins to darken. "NO! Stay awake Trissae! Endure!" "Stay awake Gods damn it!"
She feels herself slipping, but just then Grellik bursts through the door and as the door flies open Her chest heaves as she takes her first breath from the startle. As the adrenaline floods its way through her body she attempts to call out, but this only results in the beginnings of a coughing fit.
Amidst the coughing she chokes out one command, "Don't touch!" as she waves a hand to dissuade assistance
Cavell immediately sets hands on sabres when he sees the room full of docile people. When they return to normal he relaxes only slightly.
"Well, that's f$&!ing unsettling, isn't it? I thought they'd all turned into dazers for a second."
He waits for Beldabar, following his lead.
The Dark Mother was a very active deity, especially within her own domain of Menzoberranzan, the city of her Drow. Being surrounded by such divine intervention gave Trissae an advantage of recognizing what was coincidence, and what was omen.
For example, after her family had moved into House Do'Urden, the young drow began to notice strange occurrences. Dreams of hanging, suspended in the dark with the sensation of powerful arms gently spinning her, her ability to breathe and move becoming more hindered with each revolution.
She would wake to find that spiders had actually spun webs upon her, as if trying to net her in place.
It wasn't all omens from Lolth though, as Eilistraee was also trying to speak to the young woman at the same time. Through training in sword play, the sounds of combat, of metal on metal and the panting breathe of foes exerting themselves, took on a musical quality during the training.
It was during a moment like this, that Trissae owed her song-craft to winning against her tutor in a fight. She simply had to continue the melody of battle she could feel. Parry, parry, dodge, breathe, step, parry, riposte. Victory. This seemed to horrify her tutor, but pleased her mother... The first words Trissae had ever heard from a God beyond The Spider Queen.
Understanding messages from the gods is a delicate and difficult task, but for those who can tell what is or isn't Their voice, can gain great insights.
You emerge out of the hideout into the storm, Grimgar at your heels, to see Trissae and Ozz steaming in the rain. Ozz, still laying on his back. Trissae, with a webway of lightning scars across her arm and face.
The sword in her hand is slightly glowing like a recently struck lightning rod. The elvish writing on its fuller stands out even sharper due to this glow than it had before.
Beldabar gives you a nod, and walks up to a nearby employee in the center of the room, serving drinks after her unfreeze. "Can you have someone check with Master Lowbrick in the Thrice-Empty suite, he's going to need some additional services." he speaks low.
Without meaning to, you find your hand drawing Sapphire's Sabre.
Trissae: While you may have missed the initial understanding that this was an omen (), when Ozz speaks, you understand that he has noticed something within the manner of the bolt of lightning that you had missed.
Ozz seems to think the bolt was a god sending a message, rather than just random chance.
Grellik catches himself, eyes widening as Trissae cautions against touching. He glances angrily at the sky, muttering to Talos what he can stick where on his divine personage, and rushes to Ozz to make sure that he is not dying.
Ozz's eyes slowly focus on Grellik as the big man stands over him. "I'm... I'm... okay..." he says, coughing blood again.
"Grell... Did... Marr say something about... Slowing the plague?" his left hand twitches again from the energy he was just communicated by. His nose ring is glowing.
Both Trissae's sword and Ozz's nose ring seem to be affected in an unusual way. It might be worth exploring.
Trissae gritting and bearing raises to her feet, slowly and cautiously. She begins walking back into the hideout, advancing gingerly as not to come in contact with any other surfaces than the one she walks upon.
Once inside she looks to Feng, a glimmer of hope dances on her expectations, and she moves forward. She reaches down to touch the Dragonborn, hoping that the blade in her hand still holds some residual charge and that her freshly zapped body can play a conduit to transfer that charge to Feng.
with one last breath, she quickly grabs Feng by the wrist while placing the blade against the back of her own hand hoping to discharge the energy through her wet hand into Feng.
Cavell lets the sabre be drawn, and looks at it with brow furrowed, a little annoyed at the timing.
He lowers his voice, "One moment, Beldabar. This sword has some odd magic on it, a little mind of its own, but I haven't had it act up this strongly before...I can control it, but I'm curious what it's up to--especially after that strange calm we just witnessed."
Focusing on the blade, he tries to listen to it.
Grimgar looks around the alley, seeing Trissae mobile he is less concerned than with Ozz. He ignores the Drow for now and approaches Grellik and Ozz, glancing cautiously around.
"We should get inside..."
Trissae goes downstairs while Grellik checks on Ozz. She approaches Feng and tries to discharge her electricity into the 'dying' dragonborn.
There is an audible static shock, causing Feng to flinch, as Trissae entirely discharges the remaining electricity within her.
"Ahh! What was...?!" Feng groans in surprise, grasping around in an attempt to defend herself.
Though some of the earthen scales retreats from her surface, Feng is still mostly affected by the plague, and still in critical condition.
She is going to need a LOT more electricity.
Thunder booms from outside.
Grellik nods and holds his hand out for Ozz to lever himself up with. "Yes, applying the opposite element will slow it, like fire to ice...but I don't know what element acid is. I have been racking my brai...&^#@^%%^!! Of course, Acid is solid, more or less--its earth--Marr even said as much. Therefore electricity is its opposite. We need to shock her!"
Once Ozz is up he will hustle back inside with all of them. "Thankfully, I have access to those sorts of spells, though we may need to find a...safer delivery method than direct application. Oh and, Ozz, get yourself a potion, man!"
Grellik will add "Though I think your ring and her sword have allready been quite infused, and perhaps we should explore those options first."
Listening to the sword, You hear the sound of footsteps ascending a staircase.
Cavell shakes his head, then has a sudden realization--Frostheight, and takes off running towards the exit of Beldabar's Rest.
Adrien takes off toward the entrance of Beldabar's. A couple of figure in the crowd taking note of the person pushing their way swiftly through the crowded room.
He runs through the door to reach the staircase that leads up to the streets of Yartar, and sees a figure climbing the stairs.
Adrien sees a man. A limping man.
The limping man turns to face the sound of an approaching person to see Adrien.
Adrien looks into the face of the man as he turns to face him. He's is older, greying, and dressed professionally and discretely, like a merchant trying to keep a low but respectable profile, or a wealthy thief meeting with an important client in public.
The limping man gives Adrien a curious glance, and stands to the side of the stairs to let him pass.
Adrien, however, feels a burning heat from the sword in his hand, and suddenly believes this man to be the person responsible for the death of his friend(s).
The Bogshark's bond with the blade has linked Lord Frostheight with Brundon, Adrien's hate merging with Sapphire's. To Adrien, either is seen as both. Sapphire's hate is Adrien's hate, and Adrien's is Sapphire's.
With their hate bound together so closely, the targets of their animosity are indistinguishable from one another.
Adrien sees Lord Frostheight.
"Lord Frostheight!" Cavell shouts, and runs at him, throwing everything he has at the nobleman.
Too caught off guard by the rushing Adrien, Lord Frostheight is pressed hard to keep his attacker from scoring fatal blows.
His eyes go wide as the noble realizes that Adrien is rushing to attack him. His waxed mustache twitches as he grits his teeth in effort to lift his walking stick up in time to defend himself.
Pressed by a series of attacks, he's only just able to keep Adrien from slashing through his throat, deflecting the first blow by less than an inch, his weight getting thrown against the wall. This opens him up for the second attack, and Adrien scores a vicious stab in his unguarded thigh.
Seeing an opening as his prey reacts to slowly to defend his leg, Adrien plunges his sword for a killing blow into his chest. Once more, however, Lord Frostheight is able to get his walking stick in the way to deflect the killing stroke, but the sliding blade cuts his hand, sending blood into the Bogshark's face.
The guard girl hears the commotion and lifts her crossbow while peering over the railing to the Rest.
"Hey! No fighting!" she says, angrily.
Behind Adrien, he can hear the sounds of a pair of running feet. "Before he gets away!" Adrien hears, a gruff old Dwarfish voice.
Lord Frostheight and the guard before him, two people coming up behind him, Adrien has no side path away from enemies. Even if he were prepared to sacrifice this opportunity to take down Frostheight.
"Ah, Cavell." Lord Frostheight says, grinning despite his wounds. "Here to volunteer yourself to the gallows? I suppose we could finally cut down that ugly, rotting hobgoblin to make some room for you."
Adrien hears Frostheight's voice nearly echoing in his head, along with a sharp tone, a ringing in his ears.